What Happens in the Past, Stays in the Past
by Moonlighter
Summary: circa Avengers: Millennium On a mission to defeat Hydra, the Avengers find themselves scattered through time. Steve and Pietro share an interlude one Paleolithic moonlit night.


**WHAT HAPPENS IN THE PAST, STAYS IN THE PAST**

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"Oh, hey. I'm glad that was you I heard."

Pietro emerged from the last barricade of giant leaves in his path, stopping to methodically brush off any collection of spiders or worse. "As opposed to Clint?" he asked, empathy in his tone.

"No, as opposed to… I don't know- a lion or something." Steve clicked his head side to side and relented, "Okay, or Clint."

Facing the stream, Pietro pulled off his headgear – dual earpieces to minimize the noise of wind friction while running, and night vision goggles with a partial alternating relay to built-in cameras on his teammates' earpieces, allowing him to spot and intercept danger at lightning speed. Quicksilver gives new meaning to the phrase 'got your 6'.

Under the pale light of a Paleolithic full moon, Steve almost thought he saw the mutant smile.

"He can be a little much."

"Well... I know you've always felt that way." Back in the day, when Clint wasn't butting heads with Pietro because of his asinine campaign to gain leadership of the Avengers, he was offending the Maximoff family honor by making a move on Wanda unpermitted. A pang of worry arose. "But it's okay now, right? Or I hope it's at least tolerable. You two seem to be getting along."

Pietro turned to face him with narrowed eyes, both discerning and darkly amused. "I won't abandon him to die alone, Captain, if that's what you mean. Although I may resort to gagging him while hogtied from time to time."

"Ha. Fair enough." Steve finished up his chore, wringing out the extra layers of underclothes he'd just washed. Maybe this wasn't the right time to tell Pietro about his plan…

The mutant came closer, his attention devoted again to the moonlight dancing across the water's surface. "God. What a beautiful night."

"It really is. Say, should we bring more wood back for the fire at camp?"

"No need. I collected plenty before dark fell." Pietro raised an eyebrow. "I always do."

"I know. Sorry, I know. It's just…" from kneeling, Steve sat back on his heels. "He's human, Pietro. Just remember he can't keep warm as easily as we can. He doesn't have accelerated healing, or a heightened metabolism."

"Neither does Wanda. And when we were but mere children making our way alone in the old country, I cared for her just the same." Pietro looked at his leader pointedly now. "As I said – I will not let him starve, or freeze, nor befall any other calamity that can be avoided. He drives me crazy, but he _is_ my friend – as you well know. Steve… what's this about?"

"Nothing. I'm just worrying for nothing." He forced out a laugh. "Really, never mind. I keep forgetting, you spend so much time at this survivalist business when you're out marathoning the planet, it isn't new to you at all. Listen, you've been a great help this last week, and you're teaching us a lot. I really appreciate it – Clint does too."

Pietro offered an uncommitted, "Hmph," and Steve knew he wasn't convinced.

"Hey, I'm being serious. It's thanks to your outdoorsmanship that we're staying alive out here. So good work, Avenger. You're really in your element like this."

"My element?" Pietro took a couple of steps forward, closing the distance between them. Something amused him again. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"You know. In your element. It means you're in your comfort zone."

"My comfort zone." He positioned himself (and his pelvis) in such a way with Steve kneeling before him that it made the joke apparent. "And what do you know about my 'comfort zone', hmm?"

Steve laughed for real, and swatted the other man's thigh, firm as a prize stallion's flank. "Teach me to give you a compliment. Move it or lose it, kid."

Pietro made a silent sigh towards the heavens. "Ah, of course – because after all these years..." then in one smooth movement, he sank to straddle the other man's lap, "you still cannot _pursue_ me, is that it?" A devilish grin overcame him as Steve reeled and caught himself and mentally adjusted to the unexpected (but far from unwelcome) turn of events, and their bodies sank together.

Once their breathing fell into sync, heavier by the second, Pietro leaned as close as possible while maintaining eye contact. His always-sharp tone was colored by a playful quality that Steve hadn't realized he missed so much from the good old days. Milking the Slavic drawl for effect, he narrated, "Behold the exotic forest gypsy in his native habitat…"

"I think this is actually a jungle."

"Whatever."

They joined in a heated kiss that released from both of them like a damn breaking and didn't ease up until they ran out of air. Steve wasted no time finding that tight backside, and he squeezed threefold to get a good feel through the uniform – anyone else would wear bruises for days. Pietro embarked on a scavenger hunt that yielded two belts undone, erections exposed, and gloves in a bush. Steve pulled off his own shirt, but stopped Pietro from taking out his earpiece.

"Just in case Clint needs to call."

"Fine. No really, it's fine, good thinking." Pietro shucked off the protective outer shell of the top half of his uniform, but grabbed Steve's hands when he went to dive under the thin shirt beneath. "We shouldn't take long," he said instead of something else, guiding one hand to his groin and bringing the other up to suck and nibble on beneath Steve's palm. Egged on by that erotic new sensation, he simultaneously began massaging Pietro's cock with short high strokes, while moving to rub his neck at the base of the skull.

A quick gasp in surprise and pleasure was his reward. The mutant arched, mouthing soundless words with eyes closed tight, and his fingers dug hard into Steve's shoulders. Somehow the mild pain satisfied him – which felt a little dirty, and he liked that part also, which felt even dirtier. He sped up too much, because he knew just what to do next.

"God, oh god, Steve…!"

"Do it. You can't hurt me. Go on. Do it."

Pietro bent and twisted into the firm massage on his neck, drilling away years' worth of tension he didn't realize had built up there, and anchored at the other man's shoulders, he could take some control of thrusting into the fist that was undoing him. " _Slow_ \- God, slower…!" As soon as he spoke the word it came true, and he lost any trace of restraint he had left, crying out and coming hard.

To recover, he rested his weight back on his own hands, half-laughing through gasps. "That- oh my God. Have you been practicing? No wait, don't tell me. Please just tell me it isn't with Clint." He laughed out loud and didn't cover his mouth, saying, "Sorry, sorry," but still laughed.

Shaking his head, Steve couldn't help but join in while he rearranged their positions to sit lotus style. "You're in rare form tonight."

"I am, I know, I'm sorry." They came back together kissing, and Pietro got busy returning the favor.

Steve explored as he pleased between saying, "Don't say sorry. I haven't heard you laugh in years. I like it."

"I know." Pietro allowed his hair to be stroked and his mouth to be penetrated deeply, and kept working Steve's cock with both hands. "I always know what you like. Don't I?" as he said it he tightened at the base and quickened at the glans, holding eye contact like a dare, until Steve seized and spasmed and met his own end gladly.

They got cleaned up right away, both knowing that they should head back to camp where their companion slept alone.

"Are you ready to tell me now?" Pietro gazed over the water again.

Steve shook dry his hands and looked up at his friend, who seemed uncharacteristically peaceful, and more open than he had in years. "How about a trade?"

The speedster grinned, as if hearing the start of a joke he already knew the punchline to. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"How are you?" Steve pointed. It was muggy outside and Pietro hadn't put his uniform top back on – he just wore the undershirt that he wouldn't let Steve take off earlier.

"Good." Steve could hardly believe that it seemed genuinely true. Pietro went on, "All things considered, actually good. I think I underestimated how traumatizing it actually was, you know, being killed back on Genosha in the other world. I dreamt of blood pouring out of my ears for a long time after that. And whatever Wanda did to bring me back…" he shuddered, "it was a dark sort of energy, Steve, very unnatural. Anyway, no sense complaining – here I am, and after that business with Doom, I feel much better. It helped tremendously when Maximus died, too. I think even after all these years, he still had a way into me somehow. And of course…" one hand wandered idly to his chest, where Steve knew the scars were – deep, hard scars, the real reason Pietro wouldn't undress, "Thankfully the crystals are out of me now, too."

Taking that all in, Steve just nodded. Brutal assassination, inexplicable resurrection… time travel. C'est la vie.

Pietro looked at him, completely calm. "Well? Your turn."

"I just need to know that you two will stick together out here. Take care of each other. I need to know that you'll both be all right."

"Why?" Before that instant, Steve suspected Pietro still stole glimpses into the future sometimes – he seemed so nonplussed anymore. But he tensed finally, a shadow of his old self, on edge and uneasy. "I mean – yes, of course we will. But you'll be here with us."

Captain America stood up. "I have a plan for how to get us out of here."

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 **~fin~**

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NOTES:I guess I'll just keep saying this. The pairing began as a self-challenge to slash these characters and should be considered 'AU' from the rest of the Moonlighter verse.


End file.
